The Greatest Heist
by The-Inedible-Croissant
Summary: John and Karkat are famous thieves and have identified a mysterious artifact in a museum as the target of their latest heist.


Karkat stood alone upon a roof, staring out at the dark horizon. He used his face-contained ocular organs to analyze the faint amount of photons that bounced around the rooftops and from it, his brain constructed an image.

The image showed him that off in the distance, from out of the inky blackness, came a piercing blue light. It flashed on and off, then from beside it flashed an equally bright red light. Karkat smiled. It was John's signal. His preparations were complete.

Karkat climbed up to the top of the building adjacent to his, and ran along the rooftops, the colorful lights growing ever closer. Coming to a high ledge, he jumped and climbed up.

Upon the shit-colored, shingle-covered roof John stood proudly, his shirt pulled up to reveal his perky LED nipples. Their gentle, rock-hard, light bulb-shaped forms flashed forth a shining path of guidance for Karkat, like a Christmas-light paved path beckoning a completely wasted Santa Claus and his reindeer down into another hellish, chimney-shaped house asshole.

John put his shirt down, once again concealing his police-flavored, chest-bound light-emitting diodes from the world, protecting them from its many horrors as if they were a pair of gentle pigeons, cooing softly.

They were standing on the roof of a museum, there to steal something of great worth. It was a priceless artifact of such wonder that no one had ever even been allowed to see it. Pitiful mortal eyes were simply unfit to gaze upon such a work of art.

Karkat walked up to one of the glass skylights that dotted the roof and peered down into the display room below. Inside were an array of display cases and various artifacts on display. It was quite the display.

At the center of the room was an extravagant podium topped with a glass case. Under the glass he could just make out a small object of some sort. It was surely the target.

John directed his attention to an open window in the skylight. He had already prepared the plan of entrance. He had a long rope coiled into a neat pile, just like a fresh dog turd, one end securely tied down.

"Are you ready?" John asked, showing him the other end of the rope.

"I'm hella ready." said Karkat.

John fastened the rope to the back of Karkat's belt. Karkat gave him a thumbs up before jumping into the open skylight.

John steadily lowered him down into the display room. Karkat instantly spotted the small glass case near the center of the room from earlier. Its opulence made it stand out from the rest of the dusty antique crap that cluttered up the room. Too bad he was so far away from it. He tugged on the rope to signal John to stop lowering him.

He recalled his training.

Karkat pictured a glorious potato, tiny and soft. The potato was caught in a spider's web, swaying gently in the midday breeze. He imagined its bumpy surface; felt its firmness; became its stalwart, rotund form.

He was the potato.

He gracefully swung across the room and latched onto the mysterious display case. As he was upon it, he could see something hidden beneath a cloth contained within. The pedestal it rested atop was clearly weighted and would set off the alarm if he wasn't able to swap it out in time. He was prepared for just such an occasion, and as he lifted up the protective glass, he produced a small sack from his pocket.

Within the sack were a series of moldering potatoes, each one just slightly more moldy than the last, creating a spectrum of potato mold from new fur coat all the way to mush. Truly a sight to behold.

Karkat reached out and grabbed the indistinct object from below the cloth, swiftly replacing it with the weighted sack of moldering potatoes. With it clutched safely in his hands, he gazed upon its nondescript glory, softly feeling its vaguely described form with relish. He placed it inside a bag.

Just then a loud ringing blared through the room, causing John to nearly drop Karkat to the floor. The alarm had been sprung. John hastily pulled him back up to safety.

Karkat emerged from the skylight just in time to see that the security forces of the museum were already upon them. A helicopter rose up behind them and a blinding spotlight was focused onto them.

"We're doomed!" John wailed, waving his arms around like an impossibly tiny man on fire inside of a hamster cage.

Karkat slapped him with the bag of stolen whatever-the-fuck. "Get a hold of yourself! We can't give up that easily!"

"But what do we do now!?"

Karkat stared at John intently for a moment, glancing over at a skyscraper in the distance and then back to him. "John! You must use the D!" he finally proclaimed, "It's our only hope!"

John looked at him with worry, "But Karkat, I don't understand..."

"Just trust me." Karkat said with resolve.

With a stoic expression, Karkat turned to the helicopter as he erased his pants from existence with sheer willpower, unleashing his glorious shining meat monster upon the night. It set the surrounding area on the small roof aglow; a scintillating beacon in the darkness.

When John gazed upon the crotch-nested branch of brilliance, he finally understood. The very sight of it filled him with hopeful determination. He looked up at Karkat with a smile, his eyes watering from the majesty of the scene before him.

His arm moved forward through the night air and he seized the penis-shaped glory between his hand-appendages. It made his skin tingle as he began to stroke it, like he was trying to keep hold of a slippery fish that could destroy planets simply by flopping about pathetically upon its doomed nest of sun-baked pavement.

A steady rumbling grew in Karkat's throat, erupting into an ear-shattering-but-out-of-tune piano stroke in G-minor. His glowing harpoon shot out across the great chasm between the buildings, bridging the foreboding gap like the hand of a god. It pierced deep into the wall of the skyscraper with its steely pointed end, anchoring him to the brick and mortar.

Holding their prize in one hand, Karkat wrapped his other arm around John's waist, clutching him like a small frog's sticky tongue. With a leap, they rocketed off into the night sky upon Karkat's incandescent, crotch-mounted zipline, like a majestic eagle covered in wet, sticky freedom.

The helicopter sped after them, like an asshole wasp on a hot summer day. It was gaining on them. They had to think fast.

John tore off his shirt with one fabulous movement of his arm and once again revealed to the world his extravagant LED nipples. He pinched them like a crab, and they lit up the sky like a flaming hydrogen balloon. The enclosing helicopter was caught in the blast of strawberry-and-blueberry flavored radiance, blinding the pilot and sending the aircraft crashing to the ground.

The helicopter erupted into a brilliant, technicolored fireball as it was vaporized, sending the pair's senses into a hazed frenzy. Karkat was sure he could hear a faint-but-still-loud-enough-to-be-obnoxious piece of disco music in the sea of flaming, technicolor vomit.

The blast formed into a fiery up-draft that carried them high into the air, and away from the eyes of the law. The lift flew them all the way to the top of the building. Upon the heights of the skyscraper, they took one last look over the city lights and the museum where they had claimed their newest prize.

They disappeared back into the quietness of the night from whence they had come.


End file.
